A Day in The Junkyard
by Guns and Illusions
Summary: One-shots from different characters' perspectives.
1. Jemima

**A/N: It's been a loooooong time since I've posted on this site, but I've wanted to write a Cats fic for forever. So I know this one is rushed and unplanned, but oh well. Here it is. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Cats. But I do love them all. :D**

Jemima couldn't sleep.

In fact, it had been almost a week since she had. It wasn't quite insomnia, she'd had naps for an hour or two here and there, but she just couldn't fall asleep at night and wake in the morning. Her short naps left her restless and un-refreshed, barely functioning during the day. She hadn't told her parents, they would just worry, as usual, and that would solve nothing. In fact, she hadn't told anyone, not even Tumble, although she'd been tempted to ask him to sleep over more than once. Not that her parents would ever allow that, anyway. Demeter might love Tumble, but Munkus hated that his daughter was growing up. There was no way a tom would be staying over at her den, not a chance.

Nevertheless, Jemima had gotten out of bed and had no plans to get back in. She was pacing furiously, her tail swishing harshly against the floor in agitation.

"Just go to _sleep,_" she told herself angrily, ears flattening. She never got worked up about anything, but her head felt heavy, all her muscles were tired, and the room was spinning. She needed sleep, but it would not come. And her claws were beginning to slide out; that was never a good sign.

Outside, the Junkyard could not look calmer. It was a full moon and a cloudless night. Jemima cocked her head and padded over to her window, the moon hanging stoically in the midnight air. The moon had always made her feel calmer, although she felt even more awake looking at it. But she wanted nothing more then to get out of her room, where she had begun to feel claustrophobic at night, and she was certain a breath of fresh air would help. Her mother had always warned her about going out alone at night, though. And both her parents would have a fit if they knew.

Jemima placed her paws on the window-sill, tail twitching, and glanced back at her darkened room. Reaching a decision, she turned back and forced the window up, slinking out as quietly as she could.

It was so _nice _out. Immediately, she felt the anxiety begin to slip away, the moon a shining beacon above her head. She padded out farther so she could sit in the moonlight, the Junkyard so oddly quiet. Jemima had never seen it this empty or silent before. It was unnerving, but also relaxing.

She settled down on her haunches, face upturned, and began to sing. It had always been an outlet for her, and right now she needed an outlet. Although all Jellicle cats loved to sing, Jemima had always been a tad more interested in it than her other friends. Her mother had always told her she had a lovely voice, and singing often helped when she was feeling low. She rarely did it in front of other cats, though. Coming to the end of her song, Jemima stared up at the sky, already feeling a million times better. Right now the moon was her only audience, and she was fine with that.

"That was beautiful."

Jemima whipped around. Well then, it seemed the moon _hadn't _been her only listener.

A small black cat was sitting in the shadows, barely visible except for the patch of white on his chest. He gave her a smile and padded out to join her in the light. "You have a beautiful voice."

"How long have you been sitting there?" Jemima asked, her eyes narrowing. This was exactly what her mother had warned her about. Strangers at night.

"Longer than you, princess," the cat said. The words should sound smug, but coming from him, they sounded kind.

Jemima eyed him warily. He was from the Junkyard, clearly, otherwise he wouldn't have called her princess. There was no royalty among the cats, but being Munkustrap's daughter had earned her a couple of nicknames. Although she had never considered 'princess' one of the nice ones. Cassie had started it, and Jemima had never liked Cassie. She was pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

"You look familiar," she told the black cat. He did, although she couldn't quite place a name.

The cat twitched his ears. "Somehow I doubt you know me. I'm Mr. Mistofolees, the Original Conjuring Cat." He gave a bow and another smile. He seemed somehow cute when he smiled, in a boy-next-door kind of way.

"Mr. Mistofolees?" Jemima asked dryly. "That's a fancy name. And a long one. Can't I call you something else? Like…Misto?"

Misto shrugged. "If you insist."

Jemima knew she should go back inside, and that her mother would put her on lockdown if she knew she was talking to this tom, but he was intriguing. She never got to do anything fun, and she didn't think this cat would hurt her. Why not make some conversation, make a new friend? "What's a Conjuring Cat, Misto?" she asked him, deciding she was interested.

Misto leaped up, his tail swirling with mischief, and he landed gracefully in front of her. "A magical cat, my dear! Not a Mystic nor an Illusionist nor a Prophet! I am the first and only Conjuring Cat!" With this, his paws began to alight, and he brought them over his head. As they reached for the sky, a bolt of bright blue light shot from them, creating a shower of electric sparks that floated down over the cat's head.

Jemima jumped back in fear and amazement. "A magical cat! I should have guessed, with a name like Mr. Mistofolees." She laughed as he created another shower of sparks, stepping below them and catching them amongst her fur. "That's so cool!"

"Why thank-you," Misto said, and bowed again. That smile was on his face again, and Jemima knew that he was at least an eight by Vicky's ratings. _Not that it matters_, Jemima scolded herself, giving a reluctant smile back. _You have a tomfriend, remember?_ Which she did, and she was sure everyone would agree Tumble was a better match for her then this mysterious magical cat. Including herself.

As the sparks settled and then died, Jemima realized she had been out here far too long. "I should probably go," she told the tom unsurely. She sure didn't want to go, but she was afraid her parents might come check on her any minute.

The smile faded from his face, but he nodded understandingly, taking a step back. "Of course. Perhaps we might meet again." He gave one last bow and turned to leap off into the darkness. There was something about the graceful way he moved that finally made a name click in Jemima's mind.

"I'm sure we will, Quaxo!" she called after him.

He looked back as he paused, a flicker of surprise lighting his face, but then he laughed. "Goodbye, princess," he said, and leapt into the shadows.

Jemima shook her head, but she was still smiling. She had a feeling she would finally sleep tonight.


	2. Alonzo

**A/N: Next chapter up! These aren't going to be in chronological order, and they don't ****_really _****relate to each other, at least not yet. So...sorry if you get confused. **

**Disclaimer: I does not own ze characters of Cats. But if I could own all 30 something cats I would. **

Alonzo was watching a familiar figure from his post, his eyes increasingly narrowing as she strutted sensually around the yard. Cassie was with Bomba, apparently her new best friend, and the two were traipsing around the Junkyard together. For once, Bomba wasn't solo as she did her usual rounds amongst the toms, and Cassie seemed to be enjoying being in Bomba's shoes immensely.

Well, Alonzo sure wasn't enjoying it. Cassie had always been superficial and a bit of a flirt, but it had worked out because he was the same way. They made a fine pair. But sometimes their games went a bit too far. And watching her strut around like a Bomba wannabe _was_ taking it too far. Especially since she knew he was watching. She was showing off for him, and not in a good way. Sure, he'd been talking up a stray last week, but they were never going to see her again. This was different. And one stray was nothing compared to ten toms at once.

Cassie and Bomba had now stopped in front of the kits, Tumblebrutus, Pouncival and Plato. They were giggling like _mad, _and the three kits looked as if they were in heaven. Well, they weren't quite kits anymore. Plato was basically a tom, and Tumble and Pounce were well on their way. But the sight of Cassie flirting with them was absolutely infuriating. Pounce, the youngest, was at least half her age.

Munkustrap was going to kill him if he left his post again, but Alonzo could take no more. "Cassie!" he shouted, sliding down from the TSE-1. The boys snapped up from their reverie, startled at his voice. "Have you forgotten we're in a relationship?" Bomba and Cassie both turned around at once, almost sickeningly synchronized. Almost like the good ole' days when they were all teens and Demeter used to be part of the duet. Bomba and her had once been the 'dynamic duo', inseparable and teasing the toms together. But that, of course, was before the whole incident with Macavity. A lot had changed now. And Cassie taking Demeter's place looked like one of those changes.

"Someone a little jealous?" Bomba drawled, and Cassie giggled.

"Bast, of course I am," Alonzo growled. "There a reason why you're prancing around with ten other toms in plain view, Cassie? Some of them not even toms yet?"

There was a murmur of discontent from the kits and Alonzo glared at them. "Sorry kids, but you're barely old enough to be thinking about queens."

Cassie smiled one of those mean, vicious smiles that she saved for those she especially hated, her mouth spreading wide to show her fangs. "_A _reason? Oh, 'Lonze, I have several reasons, and all of them are young little queens that you can't keep your eyes off!"

Alonzo felt himself baring his own teeth. "Oh come on, Cassie, there's been _two_ and they were both while you decided you needed some time on your own!"

"You think I didn't see you with that stray last week? We were definitely together then!" She was almost nose-to-nose with him now, her eyes flooding with anger.

Bomba let out a low meow from behind them, sounding amused.

"Oh shut up, Bomba," Alonzo practically spat at her. "This is between Cassie and I."

"Don't tell her to shut up," Cassie snapped back before Bomba could reply. "She's my friend!"

Alonzo's ears flattened. "And a damn good friend she's being! Introducing you to all the toms while you have a tomfriend! Me!"

"For your information," Cassie hissed, "I _asked _her to. It's time you learned a lesson, Alonzo. When we started this relationship we promised to be faithful to each other. And I was. I haven't so much held paws with another tom since you asked me to be your queenfriend."

That was a lie. He'd caught her making out with Admetus just over a month ago. She still flirted with other toms all the time, even though she wouldn't admit it. Alonzo opened his mouth to contradict her, but she cut him off before he could speak again.

"I'm tired of it, Alonzo! Everything is always my fault. You get to have your fun but get mad when I want to have some too. If I'm not good enough for you, then fine! I'm done! _We're _done! And you can tell your little stray friend too." With that she swished around and stalked off, her brown tail twitching with agitation. There was a low murmur from the crowd of toms watching, along with a bit of laughter. Alonzo stared at her retreating figure in dumb shock. They'd been together for over a year, the longest relationship he'd ever had, and he really thought she was the one, despite their constant bickering. But now she was walking away from him.

"So sorry," Bomba shrugged sultrily. She sidled up to him, tail swishing. Alonzo glared at her. "Being single isn't so bad." She gave him a flirtatious smile, but Alonzo had had enough.

"Bite me," he hissed, and bounded away. He wasn't going back to his post. He wasn't sure where he was going. Munkustrap was going to have a fit, but that would be a later problem.

Alonzo ended up in the Forest, where the cats sometimes went to hunt. It was quiet when he got there though, and that was just what he needed. After a public break-up, nothing could be better than peace and quiet.

He wished he could say that the break-up hadn't shaken him up that bad, but he was fuming. There was a bit of guilt and sadness somewhere there too, but mostly he was angry. He was not the only one at fault. Cassie could spew whatever lies she wanted, and believe them herself if she wanted to, but he had seen her with Admetus. And that was that. Alonzo could admit that he hadn't been the perfect tomfriend, but saying the relationship had failed solely because of him was a blatant lie.

If he was going to be completely honest with himself, he had always liked Cassie because of how flighty she was. It kept things exciting, kept them both on their toes. A perfect relationship would be so boring. He was pretty sure Cassie felt that way too.

Well, two could play at this game. If she wanted to teach him a lesson, he could do just the same. The Jellicle Ball was in exactly two and a half weeks, and he was sure she wasn't planning to take him back before then. That left plenty of room to find that perfect someone who would infuriate her beyond compare at the Ball. Which queen did she hate most of all?

"Alonzo!" a familiar voice rang through the Forest.

Alonzo let out a groan. Sounded like Munkustrap, coming to deliver whatever speech he had about not leaving in the middle of duty. Although he wasn't proud of it, Alonzo had gotten this speech more than enough times. Sighing, he began to pad towards the voice.

Wait a minute. Munkustrap. It was like a light bulb over his head.

Cassie had always had a personal grudge against Munkustrap's daughter, Jemima. Some of Cassie's other friends knew of her hatred, but none knew why young Jemima wound her up so much. Except for Alonzo. Before Jemi had been born, Cassie had been the only moon mystic in the Yard. Many thought she still was. But Cassie had known, as soon as Jemima had learned to sing, the moon had lit her eyes. And not being special anymore irked Cassie more than anything else in the world.

Alonzo felt a smile begin to spread beneath his whiskers. How perfect. Of course, he didn't want a relationship with Jemima, she was a sweet queen but far too young. But if Cassie could just see them dancing with each other, maybe even a quick kiss, that would be more than enough. And young Jemi might not want him now, but Alonzo was nothing if not a charmer.

"Alonzo?" came Munkustrap's voice again.

"Coming!" Alonzo shouted back. Well, if Munkus ever found out that he wanted a dance with her daughter, he'd be in more trouble than if he were to skip duty for a whole week. There was no one Munkus loved more than his daughter, except maybe Demeter. And no one he was more protective about.

But if it was going to make Cassie jealous enough to come back to him, it didn't matter. Because like Munkus would for Jemima, Alonzo would do _anything_ for Cassie.

**Another A/N: If you guys want a one-shot from a certain character's perspective, just let me know and I'll do my best to make it happen. :) Please review!**


	3. Victoria

**A/N: Yah. Another chapter. It's been like...three hours. But here's another one. :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Cats. I don't even own A cat. I wish I did. :'(**

Victoria stood in front of her mirror, staring at the way her ribs had begun to protrude from her fur. The fur itself was still brushed to perfection, her collar sparkling clean, but she looked awful. There were circles under her eyes.

Her stomach felt hollow, but she didn't have the energy to care.

Jemi and Quaxo had already noticed her skinniness, but they both left it alone when she told them it was nothing. She was still acting like her usual, bubbly self, so they didn't say anything else. But although she wouldn't tell them, Victoria _had_ had an increasingly hard time eating. It wasn't that she didn't _want _to eat, but more that she _couldn't._ Nerves were consuming her from the inside out. Anything she put it her mouth tasted like dirt. She'd only had about two proper meals in the past week. That's when it had started, after Munkus told her she was to be the one opening the Ball. That was enough to make her nervous on its own. But of course, there was the other thing…

The mating dance. Jemi was frightfully excited for her, but Victoria couldn't hold the same excitement. It terrified her. Especially because she didn't know who it was going to be yet. Of course she'd known it was going to be her year to do the dance, but it had somehow floated to the back of her mind until Munkus had reminded her. But she didn't have a mate. She didn't even have a tomfriend. And if she couldn't choose someone, they would be chosen for her. It was the way things worked.

Jemi had been trying to help her, but there was simply no one Victoria was interested in. She had always been girly, excited about toms and commenting on every one they met, even those who weren't Jellicles, but in truth she had no one special. Tradition was tradition, however, and being a direct descendent of Old Deuteronomy made it even more important that she perform the ritualistic dance. Victoria flopped down upon the floor, curling into a little white ball, feeling tears beginning to prick in the corners of her eyes. She couldn't do this. She should talk to someone, but her brother was out, and she didn't want to go find Jemi. All she wanted to do was sleep.

Heavyside, she hadn't even finished her opening dance yet. Jemi and the rest of the kittens had been helping her choreograph it, but it still wasn't halfway done. It was hard to get work done when hanging with your best friends. And there was only two and a half weeks left until she would need to perform it. Victoria buried her head into her arms, feeling tired and overwhelmed. Her stomach had begun to growl, but she did nothing to calm it.

Taking a shuddery breath, she ran a paw through her headfur. It was something she did often, usually when she was nervous, but she rarely noticed she did. It was Etcetera who had pointed it out to her. Victoria pulled her paw away from her head, and then frowned. There was a tuft of white fur caught on the end of her claws.

It took a moment for her to register what was happening, but then she let out a mewling shriek and shook the white fluff away. She raised her paw to her head again, hoping she was wrong, but as soon as she pulled her claws out, another tuft of her fur trickled lazily to the ground. No. No, no, no.

She was losing her fur. Had she really become so malnourished in one week that it had started to fall out? One glance at the mirror gave her the answer.

Suddenly terrified beyond compare, Victoria shot up and retrieved a box of chocolates from her table. She needed to eat, and now. The box had been delivered to her door the evening Munkus told her the news, with no sign of who they came from. She hadn't even touched them until now. Wrenching the box open, Victoria collapsed to her knees, madly shoving chocolate after chocolate into her mouth. It tasted like dirt. It tasted like paper. It tasted like nothing. But she couldn't stop. They were so rich that after a few her stomach actually began to protest, even though it was the first food she had eaten in at least forty-eight hours.

It took Victoria all of sixty seconds to finish the entire box. One hundred pieces of decadent, premium made cocoa down her throat. She continued to grab a few times before realizing they were all gone. The white cat was trembling, her paws pressed against her midsection, her knees curled in. There was chocolate smeared on the corners of her mouth, on her hands, on her fur, and there was cream on her cheeks. The box lay empty on the ground.

Victoria tilted her head back, feeling the tears really beginning to come through. She let out a low moan, tail wrapping around her body. Her tummy had begun to roil, rejecting the sweets. Although she didn't want to, Victoria knew she needed to move. Covered in cold sweat, she began to crawl towards the door, breaking into a dilapidated run once outside the den. Now her tummy was making weird noises, and the world had begun to blur around her.

Quaxo and Victoria's den was one of the farthest from the Junkyard, closer to the Forest then the next den. Victoria paused outside, looking towards the Junkyard and then towards the Forest. She chose the Forest and ran towards the trees, which had begun to look like green and brown blobs. Entering the underbrush, Victoria let out a yowl, feeling something tearing at her fur. She couldn't see where she was going though, and continued to run blindly into the bushes, her fur getting caught on every single one. Once she was unable to run any farther, she fell to the ground, clutching at her stomach with clenched paws. She took one breath, and then vomited onto the Forest ground.

It was quick, and once done she squeezed her eyes together, mouth open. Her jaw was moving, but no sound would come out. Slowly, she opened her eyes, feeling nauseous. There were still pieces of chocolate visible in the vomit. Victoria turned away and began to sob. She had never made herself throw up before. Ever. But it hadn't even helped. Her stomach felt worse than ever.

She needed to find someone. Anyone. Quaxo, Jemi, Eletctra or Cettie…Bast, even Pouncival would do. But she didn't have the energy to get up; she had wasted what little she had running like a madman into the Forest.

Instead, Victoria curled up as tightly as she possibly could. There were still tears seeping from her eyes, and the world had turned so blurry that she wasn't sure if she was next to a tree or a green cat. Her body was exhausted beyond compare. She began to give way to sleep, eyelids fluttering closed.

Victoria didn't know how long she lay there, but it was a while.

**Another A/N: Like I said before, if there's any cat you'd like to here a one-shot from, let me know and I shall try to make it happen. Please review :)**


	4. Electra

**A/N: As requested by ****pouncii,**** this is ****Electra.**** This is not in chronological order, so...yah. :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Cats. But I wish I did :(**

"Lexi! Wake up! Lexi! They're _here, _get _up!_"

"Ugh…" Electra let out a low groan, rolling over. "_How _many times have I told you how much I hate that nickname?"

"Fine," Etcetera huffed. "I think it's cute. But come on, I can see them outside!"

Electra groaned again, slowly setting herself upright. "Okay, okay. I'm up." She gave Etcetera a few lazy blinks. "Did you really stay up _all _night?"

"Duh."

"You are craaazy." Etcetera rolled her eyes, and Electra padded down from her bed to give her an affectionate nuzzle. "I still love you, though."

Etcetera gave her a wry grin. "Me too, you loser." Just then there was a sharp knock. Etcetera bolted straight upright, and bounded away to answer it. Electra let out a long sigh, following her leisurely, still blinking sleep from her eyes. Jemima and Victoria stood at the door, wide grins on both their faces.

"Sooo?" Etcetera was practically bouncing, she was so excited. "How was it? Was it fun? Was it amazing? Was it the best time of your life?" These questions were mostly aimed at Jemima, who gave a breezy laugh.

"It was all of those things! Cettie, it was perfect."

Electra sighed again, leaning back against the wall, her arms crossed. Jemima's first Jellicle Ball had been last night, and Etcetera had requested she come see them first thing in the morning to tell them all about it. She'd been waiting all night, unable to sleep because she had been so excited. Victoria, who had already been once, had endured the same treatment last year. Now the three of them stood in a circle, tails twitching. Etcetera let out a few squeals once in a while, listening to the queen-kits' excited recitation of the Ball.

Electra couldn't say she was quite as interested as her sister. She'd never really been as open and outgoing, and she was fine hanging out with her three best friends and not talking to anyone else. The thought of going to a Ball with all the cats in the Yard was terrifying. Her sister had always been the front-runner, and Electra was fine with that.

"You haven't told the best part, Jemi," came Victoria's excited voice. Electra snapped up, realizing she had totally tuned out.

"There's more?" Etcetera let out another of her signature squeals and grabbed Jemima's forearms. "What is it, Jemi? Tell me!"

Jemima bit her lip, looking down with that quiet smile. "Well…" She paused, turning to Victoria, who gave her a delighted nod. "Tumble asked me to dance." At this Etcetera stilled, her jaw dropping open. There was a moment of total silence and then she gave possibly the most excited squeal Electra had ever heard.

"No. Way! Heavyside, Jemi that's so cute!"

Jemi let out a squeaky laugh, blushing. "I think he might ask me to be his queenfriend."

At this Etcetera seemed to take no more. She began to jump around, taking Jemi with her, laughing and shrieking at the top of her lungs. Victoria joined in, and in no time the three kittens had collapsed on the floor in laughter. Electra watched this emotionlessly, her eyebrows raised. Sometimes she just didn't understand her friends.

The three untangled themselves, laughing, and settled down in a little circle on the floor. Victoria waved her over. "Electra! Come sit with us!" This was met with a chorus of agreeing mews from the others.

Electra rolled her eyes again, but she reluctantly pulled herself from the wall and joined in the circle. "Did anyone ask you, Vicky?" Etcetera asked as soon as she sat down.

Electra saw Victoria's smile falter for a moment. "No." _Same as last year,_ Electra thought.

"Oh, don't worry," Etcetera said dismissively. "Someone'll ask you next year."

Victoria nodded, but Electra saw a glint of unhappiness in her eyes. She didn't say anything, only patted her white paw as Etcetera started grilling Jemima on exactly what had happened. Victoria flashed a thankful smile. Electra nodded and turned back to her friends.

"He was dancing with Bomba," Jemima was saying. "Sorry, Cettie."

"Whatever," Etcetera sniffed. "Next year, when Electra and I are old enough, Tugsie'll finally notice me for real."

Electra looked down, smiling softly beneath her whiskers. She wondered if her sister would ever grow out of her ridiculous childhood crush. Electra certainly had, although she'd never tell her sister. But judging from her glance at Etcetera, who was talking adamantly about how perfect Tugger was, her sister was still set on him and him alone.

But her white tabby sister surprised her later that night. Jemima and Vicky had already left long ago, and the sun had set below the horizon. Etcetera and Electra lay side by side in bed, resting against each other's backs. "Lexie?" Etcetera asked in the darkness.

Electra groaned. "Cettie, don't call me-"

Etcetera cut her off. "Do you think someone'll ask me at the Ball next year?"

Electra paused, hearing the genuine concern in her sister's voice. "I don't know. It's still a while away. Besides, it doesn't really matter." Even this sounded like a lie to Electra. She had seen how upset Victoria had really been. And even though she would never tell, there was a certain cat she wouldn't mind dancing with at the Ball.

"You know I love Tugger," Etcetera continued. "But…he danced with Bomba last year too. And I see them together all the time." She sighed. "And I can't be Tugger's queenfriend if he already has one."

Electra swallowed, hearing the sadness in her sister's voice. "Cettie-"

"It's ok though," Etcetera cut her off again. "I think… I think I might like someone else."

Electra turned to face her sister, eyes widening in shock. "Really?"

Etcetera didn't meet her eyes. "I mean, I'll always love Tugger. But…" She took a shuddery breath. "Well, Pounce is really sweet."

Electra felt her blood run cold. _No. Not Pounce. _Because of course Electra knew Pounce was sweet. He was more than sweet. He was funny and carefree and not so _serious _all the time. He was always happy, and he made Electra feel that way too, anytime she was near him. But... Etcetera. She couldn't like him. She couldn't. Not when Electra…not when Electra liked him too. _He's mine, _she thought miserably. But of course he wasn't, because Electra had never told her sister how she felt. She had never been brave enough, and she was always certain that she would get laughed at. But if Etcetera liked him, and she said it first…there was nothing Electra could do. Even if she'd liked Pounce long before this Ball, probably before the last one too. All these thoughts went through her head as her sister waited for her reaction.

Electra wanted to scream. Or maybe cry. She had a flashing image of next year's Ball, Etcetera dancing with Pounce while Electra stood on the side, unable to do anything. The imaginary image made her so angry that she almost _did_ scream.

"Electra?" Etcetera's voice sounded small, and scared. Electra took a few deep breaths, looking down at her sister, who had turned to meet her eyes. Her throat had tightened up.

"That's…that's good," she managed to say. Except it wasn't.

Etcetera gave her a small smile and then turned back around.

Electra stared up at the empty ceiling, her paws shaking.

**Another A/N: As usual, review and leave and requests you'd like for other characters!**


	5. Bombalurina

**A/N: As request by ****Quiffin.**** A bit of a darker chapter than usual, but I don't think I'll move it to M because it isn't explicit. Also the first one that wasn't actually a one-shot (wrote this one in two parts). **

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own the characters of Cats. Sorry. **

Bombalurina walked towards her den with a satisfied purr. She could still taste Tugger's heated lips, could feel his paws against her trembling fur. For most other queens, being with a tom so soon after a break-up would be scandalous, but for Bomba, it was expected. With her previous tomfriend's brother, no less. But Tugger had been surprisingly gentle. The exact opposite of Macavity, and Bombalurina found she actually liked it. Of course, the maine coon might be a bit upset that she had left before he had even woken up, but that was the way Bombalurina liked it. Toms just got so _cute _when they were upset.

"Demie?" Bombalurina called as she entered the den. For a moment there was silence, and then came a small sob. Bomba's ears snapped up at the sound and she ran in, all thoughts of Tugger and toms instantly forgotten. "Demie? Are you ok? What's wrong?" She swung open the door of their shared bedroom, where Demeter sat on the bed, head tucked into her chest.

"Dem?" Bombalurina approached her cautiously, lowering her purse onto the bed. "What happened?" Demeter uttered a few low cries, not meeting her eyes. Bomba reached out a paw to stroke her younger sister's head, but Demeter contracted inwards at her touch like a scared kitten. Bomba frowned, but continued stroking, waiting. Slowly, Demeter began to uncurl her limbs.

Greenish bruises decorated her sister's legs, turning purple as they reached her crotch. Blood stained her fur, clotting in between her thighs and weaving a horrible red stream down to her knees. Droplets of it decorated the bedding too, beginning to turn brown. There were tearstains on her cheeks.

Bomba froze, her breath catching in her throat. It took a moment for her to register what had happened, and even then she couldn't bring herself to believe it. She felt numb. It was only when Demeter finally looked up, her eyes filled to the brim with tears and fear that Bomba sprung into action. She grabbed her sister's shoulders and turned her to face her. "Dem? Who did this to you?"

Demeter swallowed, her jaw tightening. "I-I can't…" her voice was raspy, cracking as she uttered the words.

Bomba firmed her grip, moving her face in closer. "Demeter. Tell me."

Her sister squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, tears beginning to slip through the corners of her eyelids. "He said he would hurt me if I told anyone. He said…he said he would kill me."

Bombalurina took a few breaths. She felt anger beginning to boil in place of the numbness. "Demeter," she said slowly. "Tell me who did this, or I'll kill you myself."

Her sister let out another choked sob, eyes shut tight. "Bomba…"

"_Tell me!_"

Demeter shuddered. Then she slowly opened her eyes, meeting Bomba's. "Mac."

Bomba's jaw fell open. She stared at her sister, as if expecting her to say she was joking. When she only stared back sadly, Bomba dropped her hands from her sister's shoulders, looking down in disbelief. She was trembling all over. There was silence as she tried to regain herself. "What happened?" she managed to ask.

Now a steady stream of tears fell from Demeter's eyes. "H-He came this morning…he wanted you. I told him you-" here she had to pause, choking on her sobs. "I told him you were at Tugger's. He got angry…he hit me…and…and…" She broke down completely, beginning to wail.

Bombalurina got the picture. She gave her sister a quick, forceful hug, and then tucked the sheets around her trembling shoulders. Rage had begun to colour her vision. Grabbing her purse, she turned, heading for the door.

"Bomba, what are you doing?" Demeter called after her.

"I'll be right back Demie, don't worry."

Demeter heard the determination in her sister's voice and she sat up, panicked. "No, Bomba don't, he'll get mad…Bomba!"

But she was already out the door.

Bombalurina went straight to the old pipe, where she and Macavity had used to meet. Somehow, she was certain he'd be there, and her hunch was right. Her old tomfriend stood with a cigarette in his mouth, lazily puffing with his back against the wall of the pipe. At the sound of her footsteps he turned, giving her a smile.

Once, when she had first started to fall for him, she thought that smile was charming. It was dangerous, exciting. But now it only looked evil. The smile of a monster. "Bombs," he drawled lazily. He kicked his foot off the wall, snuffing out his cigarette as we walked to meet her. "Come to get me back? What a pleasure." He opened his arms as if expecting a hug, that glint in his eye that had once intrigued her.

Bomba walked straight up towards him, dropped her purse to the ground, and gave a firm slap right across the cheek, claws out.

He didn't yowl, only recoiled in surprise, clasping a paw against the wound. Bomba took a few shuddery breaths through her nose, watching as he pulled his paw away to find it covered in blood. His eyes turned on her, filled with nothing but burning hatred. "You little bitch." He said it quite calmly, but even she could hear to venom laced through it.

It scared her only because she'd never heard it before. After a year-long relationship with Macavity, she would've thought she'd known everything about him. But this…this maliciousness… it was completely new. "How dare you!" she spat, ignoring the fear. When he said nothing in reply, she spat at him again. To her satisfaction, it landed on his arm, sliding down the slick fur lick a child on a waterslide.

Macavity brushed it off leisurely, sighing. He looked up at the ceiling, taking his time before asking, "What are you talking about?" The way he smiled after he said it showed that he knew exactly what she was talking about.

Bomba wound her arm back to strike him again, but he caught it inches from his face. She tried to pull free, but he tightened his grip, making it hurt. She glared up at him, and his expression sent a trickle of terror down her spine.

All niceties gone, Macavity's mouth was pulled back in a cruel frown, his eyes burning with an intensity she had never seen before. With sudden sharpness, he slammed her arm he was holding back against the pipe's wall, twisting it back harshly, and she cried out. "Oh no you don't," he hissed, and placed his other paw against the wall behind her, entrapping her between his body and the pipe.

Bomba felt her chest heaving, and her arm was twisted uncomfortably back, but still she stared up at him with loathing. "She's my _sister_!"

Macavity laughed, and it sounded like metal scraping against metal. "Oh, come on Bombs. I was just having… a little… _fun_."

Bombalurina felt her face screw up, and she opened her mouth to say something, but Macavity leaned his head down, pressing his lips against hers to cut her off. On instinct she pushed back against him, disgusted beyond compare, but immediately a hot pain shot through her twisted shoulder. "She's barely a child," she hissed lowly, gritting her teeth against the pain. "How could you do that to a _child?_"

Macavity snarled. "She's a little tattling brat." He paused, as if thinking, and then tacked on, "And a slut."

At this Bomba lost it, and she lashed out at him with her teeth, the only thing not pinned down by his weight. Her shoulder squealed in protest, but she ignored it to gnash her fangs. There was a moment of excruciating, white-hot pain where she felt it pop. It elicited another scream, which Macavity responded to by smashing his elbow against her teeth. She bit down even as she felt him knock out a tooth. But in ten seconds flat, he had her pinned down again. She was against the ground, one of his paws against her injured shoulder and the other against her lower stomach, claws out.

Bomba took a few sharp breaths, the pain blocking out any coherent thoughts, but she exposed her bloodied fangs all the same. "You're not a Jellicle. You're a monster," she croaked through the blood.

Macavity snorted, shaking his head as if she was a stupid child. "Bombs," he said in a maddeningly calm voice. "I _can't_ be a monster."

"You-" she began, but he pressed down on her injured shoulder, cutting her off.

"Shut up, whore," he told her emotionlessly. "Listen. _I can't be a monster."_ He grinned widely. "I'm Old Deuteronomy's son, remember?"

"Like that means shit-" Bomba began again, but he leaned down even harder and she screamed out once more, her legs thrashing against the weight of his body.

Macavity lowered his face so his nose was against hers, breath hot against her cheek. "I told you to shut up." He studied her for a moment, and once he had made sure she wasn't going to speak (She couldn't, she was beginning to see blooms of black from the pain), he shifted his weight, pressing his claws hard enough into her abdomen to begin to draw blood. "It _means_ I can say whatever I want," he said slowly. "It means I can do _what_ or _who_ever I want." He paused again, lifting his paw from her stomach so he could turn her chin to face him. "Look at me while I'm speaking."

Bomba was light-headed and she saw three Macavities instead of one, but she did as she was told, jaw tightening.

"I won't get it trouble for anything, because I'm his son. It's not _possible _for me _or _my brothers to be bad. To be monsters. You and your slutty sister can go spew all the stories you want about me, but no one is going to believe you." He brought the paw from under her chin up towards her forehead, stroking it almost lovingly. "Don't you agree?" He waited, and when she refused to answer, he leaned against her shoulder ever so slightly more.

That was too much for Bomba. She had managed the pain until now, but it was too much. She let out a misery-filled gasp and forced herself to nod. Macavity watched with disinterest. "Good." With that he climbed off her, releasing the pressure on her shoulder.

Bombalurina let out a weak cry, and Macavity sighed, clicking his tongue. "I hate to see you like this, Bombs. But you shouldn't have hit me. We both knew how it was going to end." Bomba squeezed her eyes shut, a few unwanted tears getting through. She heard Macavity's footsteps as he walked away, leaving her alone in the dusty pipe.

Bombalurina lay like a broken doll, her throat choking up in sobs.

It took all the willpower she possessed to move again, even after an hour or however long it had been. She pushed herself carefully up with her good arm, and then picked her injured one off the ground. It had turned numb. Cradling it like a baby, she shakily stood up and walked out of the pipe.

Later, much later, after she'd seen Jenny and her arm had healed, she would talk to Demeter. After a long fight in which her sister would finally convince her that telling people of Macavity's crime would do no good, Bomba would enclose herself in her room and cry for two hours straight. After the tribe would finally deem Macavity insane and kick him out, Bomba would cry again. She'd never be sure if they were tears of sadness or joy. She would cry many, many times in the wake of Macavity's destruction, wondering if she could have prevented it by telling what he had done to her and her then-barely fifteen-year old sister. She would cry when she saw how Demeter was unable to function around toms, and then cry again with joy after Munkustrap regained her sister's trust.

Bombalurina would shed many tears over Macavity. And that was just the way he liked it.

**Another A/N: As usual, review and leave and requests for other characters you'd like featured. I'm also fine with doing repeats if there's anyone you'd like to see again. Thanks for reading! :)**


	6. Rumpleteazer

**A/N: Another chapter up! Includes some RumplexMungo (they're mates, not siblings). And I'm rubbish at writing accents, so just use your imagination. Hope you enjoy! :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Cats. Wish I did. But nope. Sorry.**

Rumpleteazer rested on the TSE-1, overlooking the kittens, same as she had been doing the past week. Normally, she would join into the kittens' games, but she had injured her paw in her most recent heist and was required to 'let it rest, please' by Jenny. For the first few days, it had been almost excruciating not being able to play about, for Teazer was always creating mischief and excitement. She was never still. But the Ball was in less than a week, and she supposed that letting her paw heal so she could dance then was a wiser decision than playing about now. If she injured it further, she might be unable to participate at the Ball.

Nevertheless, sitting and doing virtually nothing had given Teazer lots of time to think, something she rarely did. Jerrie had stayed with her the first day, but like herself, he couldn't stay still for long. Now he was off somewhere with his friends, and Teazer sat in silent solitude. Only three years the senior of the oldest of the bunch, Victoria, Teazer had always enjoyed playing with the kittens. Being apart from the group now gave Teazer an uneasy sense of responsibility, which had increased with the amount of time she had been watching them. Although her days of being called a kitten were far from over, she was certainly not an adult. At least, not a responsible adult. Some part of her thought she never would be.

"Teazer?"

She turned at her name, and a calico cat hopped down from the surrounding junk to join her on the car. "Jerrie! I thought you were out with the toms." She ran up to nuzzle his cheek, and they settled onto the car together, side by side.

"I was, but they found a henchrat by the borders, and…" He rolled his eyes. "Well, you know how it is. I had to bolt. Couldn't have the disgusting thing recognize me."

Teazer frowned. "Yah…I suppose not." Mungojerrie wrapped an arm around her, and she turned back towards the kittens.

"Teazer? Are you okay?"

Teazer sighed, shifting her weight carefully to face him. "I don't know. I guess I'm just bummed over my paw." Jerrie raised his eyebrows. Meeting his gaze, Teazer saw the contradiction in his eyes. She supposed he knew her too well. "Okay, maybe there's more," she admitted. She motioned towards the kittens, unsure how to express how she was feeling. Jerrie watched her hesitation in confusion.

"You…" his gaze followed her paw. "You want to play tag with them?" When she shook her head, he glanced at her in bewilderment. "Come on Teazer, what is it? You seem so…" He paused, searching for the right word. "Not unhappy…but muted. Like, you're usually Etcetera, and today you're Electra."

This extracted a small laugh from Teazer, but she supposed he was right. All this thinking time had gone straight to her head. She turned to the kittens, frowning, and then it struck her. She knew what had been bothering her. "Jerrie, just look at them. I mean…Victoria had just learned to pounce when we came to this tribe. And now she's basically a full grown queen."

Jerrie still looked confused. "So? She's growing up."

"Exactly." Teazer met his eyes. "They all are. Bast, Cettie and Lexie couldn't even talk yet, the first time we saw them. Now it's their first Ball." She smiled sadly. "They're barely even kittens anymore."

"Why does that make you upset?" Jerrie inquired softly. "Everyone grows up."

Teazer shook her head again, and walked towards the edge of the car. "It just…it just…" Her tail twitched in frustration. She was never this serious, and it was a bizarre feeling. "They won't look up to me anymore," she finally managed. She paused, her own words surprising her, and thought them over in her head. It was true, she supposed. It was exactly why she was upset.

Even though she played with them, the kittens had always considered her one of the 'older cats'. She certainly wasn't a mothering figure, but perhaps…an older sister. They turned to her when they needed advice, which she had always been glad to give. Jemima in particular, who had no siblings, often came to talk to her when she was fighting with her parents. Rumplteazer'd always appreciated how much they trusted her. She looked up at Jerrie, trying to relay these thoughts back into words so he would understand. "They won't want advice from me anymore. They won't take what I say as…as truth. I guess I always thought I was being useful when I tended to them when they were tiny, but now…I dunno. They don't need me."

Jerrie bit his lip, trying to comprehend this. "Teazer, you're turning all sentimental."

She laughed, but it didn't sound happy. "Yes, I am." She swished her tail in the direction of the kittens again. "I mean, just look at them! Victoria's such a gorgeous young queen, she's going to have a _mate _in less than a week, Jemima has a tomfriend for Heavyside's sake, Electra is beautiful and more mature than I could ever hope to be, and Etcetera, even little Cettie, she's attending her first Ball." She let out a sigh. "I watched them grow up. How can I _not_ be sentimental?"

Jerrie didn't answer her, but the first bit of understanding showed in his face.

Teazer looked down, jaw quivering. It was quite an outburst for her. "Jerrie…" she said quietly, her tail entwining with his. "Have you…have you ever wanted kittens?" She took a breath after the question, immediately regretting asking it. For some reason, it took all her bravery, the bravery she reserved for the scariest heists, to meet his eyes.

She had feared seeing shock there, perhaps dry amusement or disgust. But Mungojerrie's dark eyes were filled with kindness only. "I can't say I've really thought about it, Teazer." He moved closer, pressing against her reassuringly. "But you would make an amazing mother."

At this Rumplteazer laughed, partly with relief but also because what he said was ridiculous. "Somehow I doubt that. This whole thing with Mac…" she lowered her voice at his name, "How could I raise children in such a toxic environment? He'd find a way to use them against us." Jerrie looked away, hearing the bitterness in her voice. "I hate that cat," she continued. "Why can't he just leave us _alone_?"

"We have a debt to pay," Jerrie told her gently, which was nothing she didn't know. "But…"

"But what?" Teazer asked unhappily.

"But we could always leave," he finished. "We could go somewhere far, far away, where we know Mac can never find us, and we could have a family. A safe family."

Teazer mulled it over. It wasn't a crazy idea. It was what Jerrie and her had always done. Before they came into the tribe almost exactly four years ago, they travelled everywhere, never staying in one city for more than a couple months. If things got really bad somewhere, they'd be gone within two weeks. They were rovers, it was what they did. Until the Jellicles. Until Mac.

_Is he the only reason you stayed, though? _Teazer asked herself. _If Mac hadn't basically damned enslaved you, would you still be here?_ And, to her surprise, she found that the answer was yes. Of course she'd still be here. She'd grown to love the Jellicles. She _was _a Jellicle. And she wouldn't leave them for the world.

"No," she told Jerrie firmly, as she reached this conclusion. "We're staying. These cats are our family now. I can't leave them. Even if it means I can never have kittens of my own."

Jerrie gave her a small smile, a mixture of relief and sadness in his eyes. "I love you, Teazer."

Teazer felt a bit of warmth cut through her funk. If she couldn't have kittens, at least she knew for certain that she would always have Jerrie.

"I love you too," she told him, and leaned over to plant a small kiss on his nose.

**Another A/N: Please review and leave any requests for cats you'd like featured, or cats you'd like to see repeats of. Thanks for reading :)**


	7. Etcetera

**A/N: Hello hello! Another chapter up. I actually have like four or five that are already written but I haven't gotten around to posting. Perhaps they'll all go up today if I have the time to edit. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own annnnnny characters in Cats. **

Etcetera was excited.

Okay, that was an understatement. Although most everything was an understatement when it came to describing Etcetera. She was…passionate. About everything. And everyone. If she disliked something, she _hated _it. If she liked something, she _loved _it. And right now she was more than excited. She was over-the-moon, reach-for-the-stars, practically in-Heavyside-Layer _hysterically _excited. Because she was _finally _old enough to go to the ball. Along with her sister, Electra. It was Jemi's second year, Vicky's third, and Teazer's fourth. She had heard all their brilliant stories, and she was so excited that she felt she might explode. Then again, Etcetera always felt like she would explode, whether it was from happiness, sadness, or excited-ness. It was part of her _character_.

But there was something slightly unnatural about her excitement over the Ball, and even she herself could feel it. If you sat Etcetera down and talked to her heart-to-heart, she might admit that somewhere under her excitement was a certain feeling of something _wrong. _It was the only way she would be able to describe it, although it was far more sinister than just wrong. The feeling that plagued her was an undercurrent to her excitement, but it was still there. She never even considered telling others about it, although if she did she might find out that Jemi hadn't been sleeping, Vicky was having trouble eating, and Electra had been feeling irrationally angry towards everyone. But Etcetera never did ask. The wrongness had settled in over a week ago, and by now it just seemed like it had always been there. Nothing to worry about at all.

Actually, the way Etcetera dealt with her indescribable feeling was to act more excited than ever. Especially towards her part in helping to choreograph Vicky's opening solo. Granted, they'd barely made it past the first ten seconds, but _still! _She got to help! Well, she was supposed to. She was waiting with Electra, Teazer and Jemi, but Vicky was nowhere to be seen. She said noontime at Teazer's. And it was almost twelve thirty. But she wasn't there. Yet.

Jemi was standing at the doorway, looking terribly concerned. Electra, Teazer and Etcetera herself were playing a game of tag. "Guys, I'm getting a bit worried," Jemi mewed, her tail swishing. She had refused to take part in the game. "Vic's never late. And she was just telling me yesterday how important it was that we finish the dance today…why isn't she here?"

"You worry far too much," Teazer said dismissively with her Cockney accent. Etcetera had always loved it, sometimes she went full days pretending to speak like Teazer and Jerrie. It drove her parents nuts, but when Etcetera loved something…well, she _loved_ it.

"Yah," Electra said calmly, stepping back just in time to avoid getting tagged. "She'll be here any minute, you'll see. You can't be on time for your whole life-"

"Ah HAH!" Etcetera interrupted, giving a squeal as she pounced on Electra and tackled her to the ground. "You're it!"

"Cettie! Guys!" Jemi shouted in frustration. "Can't you stop for a second and listen?"

Etcetera looked up triumphantly from where she stood over the grumbling Electra. But something in Jemi's voice made her pause. Jemi never shouted. Ever. In fact, she never really seemed to get worked up about anything. But now her wide eyes were filled with distress.

"Alright, alright," Teazer nodded understandingly, and picked Etcetera up off Electra. Teazer gave them both indulgent smiles, then gathered the two kittens up beneath her. "We're listening. What do you think we should do, Jemima?"

Jemi blinked, looking momentarily surprised they were actually listening to her. Then she straightened up. "Well, I guess we should go look for her. Or one of us should."

Etcetera bounced out from beneath Teazer to sit beside Jemi. "Cool! Like a search party! Can I come? I bet it'd be fun!"

Electra nodded sagely. "Cettie and I can take the Yard, and Teazer and you can go ask the other cats if they've seen her."

Jemi furrowed her brow and shook her head. "No, at least one of us has to stay here. In case she comes back."

Teazer stretched back, giving a great yawn. "I can stay Jemi, don't worry. It's my den. And Jerrie'll be back soon. I wanted to…um…discuss something with him." There was a glint in her eye as she said this that made all three cats know immediately she was up to mischief.

"Well…then one of us has to go on their own," Jemi said unsurely. "One can tour the Yard and the other two can ask around? Or vice versa."

"I wanna talk to other cats!" Etcetera shouted immediately. "I'll ask everyone!" She felt more excitement beginning to tingle at the tips of her paws. This was a different sort of excitement though, one mixed with a bit of pride and fear. She had a _responsibility, _one of those things the older cats talked about so often.

"Well, I'd like to tour the Yard," Jemi said quietly. That was expected. Jemi was always quieter; she didn't like talking much. "So that leaves you, Electra."

Electra let out a low purr, clearly pleased to be given the choice. She eyed both cats, her forehead riddled in thought. "I'll go with Jemi," she said finally. "I spend _way_ too much time with my sister anyway. I need a break!"

Once outside, Jemi and Electra split off, leaving Etcetera to tour the cat's dens. It was quite fun- Etcetera thought almost everything was fun- but fruitless. Nobody seemed to know where Victoria and gone. Most suggested she might have gone back to her humans' for a bit, but Etcetera was certain that wasn't right. Why would Vicky blow off her friends for a visit to her humans? Unfortunately, no one really seemed interested in helping Etcetera look, either. Even Tugger, who would usually yield to little Cettie. Finally, just as Etcetera was about to head back to Teazer's in defeat, she ran straight into Plato.

"Oof!" she squealed, and tumbled backwards.

"Whoops," Plato grinned. "Sorry, Cettie. You okay?"

Etcetera popped back up with a matching grin on her face. "Yup! Just fine!" Plato gave her a pat on the head and turned to leave, but Etcetera grabbed hold of his tail. "Wait! Plato, have you seen Vicky anywhere? Jemi and Electra and I are looking for her."

"Victoria?" The older cat's brow furrowed in concern. "No, I haven't. Have you looked everywhere?"

Etcetera nodded. "All around the Yard. She was supposed to meet us about an hour ago at Teazer's, but she never showed up."

"Did you check her den?"

Etcetera's eyes widened. Of course! How could she forget? Vicky was probably sleeping there or something. "No! Plato, you're a genius. I'll go check right now." She turned and bounded away, meaning to leave him, but he followed her.

"I'll come with you. Victoria's den is quite close to the Forest. I don't think it'd be wise for a kitten to go there alone." He gave her a quick smile.

"I'd be fine," Etcetera grumbled. She gave him a pouty face but he wasn't paying attention. Hmph. He had barely reached the end of kittenhood himself. But then again, she agreed the Forest could be a little scary, although she wouldn't admit it. So she allowed him to come with her.

"I hope she's alright," Plato said absentmindedly. He looked genuinely concerned. Etcetera frowned, feeling the first bit of real fear creeping in. It was one thing when Jemi was nervous, but when someone like Plato got worried, who was older and wiser than all of them, it made Etcetera feel very nervous indeed. The feeling of wrongness suddenly overtook her excitement, settling it into the background. Yes, something was wrong, and she knew it now.

"Me too," she mewed quietly. "Me too."


	8. Demeter

**A/N: Here's another chapter for ya. Might write another for Dem just cuz I don't think this one showcases her the way I wanted it to. But hope you enjoy anyway. :)**

**Disclaimer: The Cats characters do not belong to me. **

"So. Final conclusion?"

Jennyanydots and Demeter were standing over Mabel's body. Alonzo and Gus were watching them from the side, faces equally sombre. Actually, Alonzo looked more grossed out than anything, but nevertheless, no one in this scene was happy. Jenny had directed the question at Demeter, but she couldn't meet her eyes. It was awful. All of it.

Demeter cleared her throat hesitantly. But she had trained with Jenny for over three months now, and she understood as well as the real medicine cat what had happened. "She bled to death. It was caused by some sort of drug, which she likely took to have a miscarriage." Demeter paused here, watching the older cat before continuing. "She was eight weeks pregnant. I doubt Mabel knew about the drug on her own, so she probably bought it from someone. If that someone knew that it would cause such severe haemorrhaging and gave it to her anyway…" Here she let out a labored sigh, which Jenny matched. "Then it was murder."

"Do you know anyone who might've given her the drug?" Alonzo asked from behind her. Demeter shook her head unhappily. Mabel had been such a sweet young queen. She lived in an abandoned house not far from the Yard, declining the offer to try out a Jellicle life multiple times. She had always been steadfastly sure that her humans would come back. The Jellicles knew they were long gone-they'd left over three years ago and not a trace of them had been found since- but they let the queen think what she wanted.

"She's not even a year older than me," Demeter mumbled unhappily, stepping back from the body. "Pregnant. At fifteen." She hadn't meant for anyone else to hear it, but Jenny placed a paw on her shoulder from behind.

"If only she'd come to us. We could have taken care of her," she said sadly. "Come now, we should get back."

Demeter nodded, but she was deeply unsettled. Throughout the whole examination she had felt blank, unfeeling and cold, which had been a frequent feeling for her nowadays. But once they had discovered Mabel had been pregnant, something in her had snapped. Mabel didn't have a mate or a tomfriend. And she doubted Jenny would disagree if Demeter told her she thought the pregnancy was a result of rape.

What she might disagree with was who Demeter believed the rapist to be.

There was something oddly _ironic _about seeing Mabel lying on the ground, blood dribbling from every conceivable part of her body. Bast, she'd bled from her _eyes._ But the worst part of it all was the uneasy feeling of guilt that had settled in Demeter's stomach. After that terrible morning, which she now kept locked up in a box in her mind, she'd thought it was over. She hadn't thought about it in months and all that was left of it were a few ghostly images of the orange tabby. It was done. But for Mabel, it hadn't ended there.

Demeter wouldn't share these thoughts with her sister. Bomba would be marching over to Mac's den in less than thirty seconds flat, and Demeter knew well enough how _that_ would end. She'd always disapproved of how her sister believed that telling anyone would do any good. But suppose they _had _been able to do something? Perhaps Mabel would be alive. And if Demeter had known about the crime and done nothing…that made her as bad as the real culprit, didn't it? She was just as guilty as the rapist himself. Of course there was no proof that Mabel and had been violated by the same cat-or even that she'd _been_ violated-but somehow Demeter was sure.

The murder had shaken up the Yard more than Demeter would've thought. For the next few days it seemed everyone was always out and walking around, talking and muttering and clicking their tongues. They all wanted to talk about it. They couldn't just shut up and let the poor queen have some dignity. Instead they needed to rip up Mabel's reputation and slam it into the dirt. This was how they would've reacted if they'd known about _her..._wouldn't they? It was pathetic yet infuriating. Demeter didn't care for the cats' gossip and discussion, but she did notice one thing. She hadn't seen Macavity at all.

When they finally questioned someone, it was a relief and yet another burden. More to talk about. Mostly Demeter wanted to keep out of it, lest someone find out that she might be linked to the case, but the news made its way to her anyway.

Grizabella. They thought it was Grizabella.

Demeter hadn't spent much time with the old cat. Other than the fact that she'd had an incident with a tom a few years ago, Demeter knew next to nothing about her. As a kitten, she'd thought that 'incident' might've been an argument, but now…she thought she knew better. So how do you describe Grizabella? If the term 'mystery cat' had existed then, she would have put her paw on that immediately. Grizabella was mysterious. And according to a few of the toms, she ran a drug ring.

Demeter didn't find _that _surprising, even she could discern the stink of 'nip on Grizabella's coat. And true, Mabel seemed to have been killed by misuse of some sort of drug. But to label the queen as a murderer? It wasn't right. Now, Demeter'd been acting pretty strange lately. Or as Cass would say, like a cold-hearted bitch. Which Demeter didn't deny. But something about them shunning Grizabella, even going so far as to patrol her den until a 'trial'- it awakened the old spirit inside her. The spirit that wanted fairness and always tried to see the good in everyone.

Demeter spent a day or two musing about with this newfound or rather, re-found temperament, and then finally decided to go see the accused herself. Which should've been a problem since Grizabella was basically locked in her den, no visitors allowed. _But_ it just so happened that Munkustrap was one of the guards.

Dem wasn't sure how long Munk had had a thing for her. She probably wouldn't have even noticed it if Bomba hadn't whapped her around the head one night and told it to her straight. He was nice and kind of cute, and before Mac she'd actually considered saying yes if he'd asked her out. But after Mac...well. She had a hard time going near toms now, which was one thing, but the other was that Munk was Macavity's brother. He didn't look much like his older sibling, which helped enough that Demeter could still smile back if she tried hard enough, but not enough to talk to him. Tugger on the other hand, who was looking more and more like Mac every day…Demeter was sure she would never be able to speak to him again. Ever.

But if she was serious about this whole 'I don't think Grizabella's guilty' thing, she was going to need to talk to her. So one morning, Demeter headed out towards the old queen's den, which was being guarded by Munk and Alonzo, and just did what she had to. She spoke to him.

"Hey Munk," was what she started off with, and it was enough to make him perk up and flash a brilliant, over-eager smile.

"Demeter!" he grinned. "Long time, no see!"

Demeter let out one of those easy laughs that she hadn't laughed in over six months and padded over so they were nose to nose. "I guess we haven't. Having fun?"

Alonzo rolled his eyes from beside them. "Fun? This is boring as hell. They won't even give Munk and I patrols yet, man. I thought being a Protector would be more interesting than this." He leaned back in one of those sassy teenager poses that he probably thought was super cool. Demeter giggled, something that felt insanely foreign and yet familiar at the same time.

Munkustrap gave him a chastising look. "Alonzo, you're barely sixteen. Of course they're not giving us patrols." He turned his gaze back to Demeter shyly. "So…what's up?"

She flashed the most flirtatious grin she could manage. Even out of practice, flirting seemed natural to her. She wasn't Bombalurina's sister for nothing. "Actually, I wanted to speak to Grizabella."

Munkustrap opened his mouth in surprise. "I… I can't really do that Demie. I just…we're not allowed…" he trailed off unsurely.

She raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure? I'd be really quick, I promise." She smiled again, and from the look on his face she knew he was a goner.

"Well… I suppose…ok. Just for five minutes." He spared a glance at Alonzo. "What do you think?" The black-and-white tom gave a non-committal shrug, still looking as if he wished he were anywhere but there.

_Well that was a piece of cake, _Demeter thought absentmindedly, and Munk opened the den door for her. _He really _does _like me. _

Grizabella sat alone at the back of her den. It was dark, and immediately the overpowering smell of 'nip reached Demeter's nose. It was awful, but at the same time there was something strangely alluring about it. "Grizabella?" she asked.

The older cat gave a broken smile. "They're allowing visitors now, are they?" she asked wheezily. "Well. Didn't expect to see you here." She smiled a kind of half-amused and half-cruel smile. There was something indescribably nasty about it.

Demeter considered acting all charming as she had outside with the toms, but she felt as though Grizabella would see right through that. So she got straight to the point. "Is it true? Did you give something to her?"

Grizabella sighed laboriously. "I already told Gus. Yes. Yes, I did. But she wasn't supposed to die."

"What do you mean?" Demeter asked cautiously.

"I _mean_," Grizabella said, as if she was a pesky annoying little fly, "that she wasn't supposed to take it all at once. I even warned her." She let out a wheezy laugh. "Of course, those toms out there don't believe me."

Demeter considered her for a moment. "But then it wasn't your fault."

Grizabella paused at this, eyeing her up and down. "What are you doing here, kid? Trying to wheedle more information out of me? Everlasting, everyone knows about the 'nip. So I don't have anything else to tell you." She gave a contemptuous snort, folding her arms across her chest.

"I think you're innocent," Demeter said harshly, and folded her arms as well. "They might kill you for this. If you don't want to talk, then fine. But I can help you."

Grizabella grinned wryly, a grin that revealed all her yellow teeth. Straight, Demeter noted, but yellow. "Right, honey. You can convince the other _thirty_ cats in the Yard that I'm innocent. I don't think so. Not when Old D's sons believe me guilty themselves." She glared at Demeter. "Look. She wanted an abortion. I wasn't going to turn her away." Her eyes went shadowed for a moment. "I knew her position. So I gave her a month's worth of amy root and told her eat one a day otherwise she'd bleed to death like a little overflowing volcano. I told her the baby'd be gone in two months. But I guess she couldn't wait that long, because the only way she could've died was if she took it _all _in one measly day."

Demeter nodded. It was sad, but not exactly shocking. In all honesty, she'd guessed as much. A little volcano, that was Mabel. _Bleeding from her goddamned eyes_. "What we queens do to ourselves," she muttered under her breath.

At this Grizabella began laughing again. "We! _We?_ Well, that's the hoot of the century, my dear!" Her voice was cruel and cold. "Just cuz you've seen a dead body doesn't mean you know what those…those _mongrels_ can do to us. And I doubt you _ever_ will!" She shook her head in what looked like utmost disgust. "I'd bet my last dollar on that, I would."

Demeter was silent for a moment, and the two queens stared at each other. Grizabella's eyes were hard and mean, Demeter's blank and cold. And then finally, Demeter unfolded her arms and looked away. "Then you'd be broke," she said quietly. She spared Grizabella one last look long enough to see the queen's eyes widen in understanding, and then she walked out the den door, closing it quietly behind her.

**Another A/N: So... yah. Methinks Grizabella needs her own chapter. Anyway, if you have any requests for other characters or repeats of characters, let me know! Please review and thanks for reading. :)**


	9. The Rum Tum Tugger

**A/N: A bit of fluff for you. Enjoy! :)**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the characters of Cats. :'(**

The Rum Tum Tugger stood in front of his mirror, whistling a jaunty tune. Quietly, though, 'cuz if he were to wake Bomba she'd be _furious_. Although, Bombalurina's rage _was_ almost as good as her happy…if you played it right. And over the last few years, Tugger had _certainly _learned how to do that. He gave his mane a last fluff and then glanced back at the red queen in his bed. She lay, breathing softly, her fur ruffled and her mouth slightly open. He'd gotten used to seeing her like this, but it still made him smile. Bomba was sexy as hell and everyone knew it, but in this state…she was plain beautiful. She looked innocent and child-like, and she was beautiful. Nothing else.

Usually she would leave him before he awoke, which she had done the first time and made it routine. But occasionally she'd come to him late or in the early hours of the morning, and then he would wake before her and see her in that angel-like state. This morning was one of those mornings. Tugger gave her one last kiss on the forehead and then headed out, closing his den door gently behind him.

It was oddly quiet in the Yard. It wasn't like he expected paparazzi outside or anything, but usually there'd be a kitten or two, waiting patiently outside his door. They certainly weren't there today. "Munk!" he called as he passed his brother, who was sitting stoically on top of the TSE-1, clearly on duty. The silver tabby glanced down, a look that was a smile and yet a sigh of annoyance on his striped face. "Where are the kittens?" Tugger asked.

Munkustrap rolled his eyes. "Busy. Jemi said something about them practicing for the Ball with Victoria."

Tugger drew his head back, confused. "The Ball? Cettie and the others are attending the Ball this year?"

His brother sighed. "Tugger, Jemi was there last year, and Etcetera and Electra are only nine months younger than her. So yes, they are." His tail swished with amusement. "Growing up, aren't they?"

"Everlasting, yah," Tugger agreed. "Alright then. I'll find someone else to hang with." He flashed Munkustrap a brilliant smile and bounded off. Well, if there were no kittens around, Tugger knew right where he was going. He sauntered down towards the old pipe, humming obnoxiously loud. He did everything that way-obnoxiously. "Tugsies!" came a squeal from behind. Tugger glanced back to see a white furball launching itself at his face.

"Woah there, Etcetera," he laughed, recognizing the squeal almost before it had finished. "You're gonna kill me someday."

Etcetera's eyes widened with distress. "Oh no, I'd never do that." She then began bouncing on her toes, a grin spreading across her face. It was remarkable how fast her emotions changed. "Never, never, not to you Tugsies!" Tugger grinned, giving her a little pat on the head. My, she was getting big. "Have you seen Vicky, Tugsies? We're looking for her but we can't find her! She's _late_. You should come look with me!" Etcetera's bouncing got more intense. Tugger hesitated, looking at her expectant face and then at the pipe.

"Sorry, Cettie," he told her, making up his mind. "I'm a bit busy right now. If I see her I'll let you know."

Her face crumpled up in disappointment, but it was only half a second before she spotted Coricopat and went chasing after him, shouting, "Have you seen Vicky?! Cori!" Tugger gave a huff of amusement before continuing towards his destination. Just as he neared the pipe, a bright flash of lighting lit the inside, showering him in a few blue sparks.

"Bast!" came a frustrated shout from within.

Chuckling, Tugger slinked his way in, tail waving lazily. "Mistoffelees! How goes it, brother?"

A tiny black cat appeared from the shadows, his brow set in an annoyed frown. "I'm _far _too young to be your brother, Tugger. Also, do _not _call me that. It's Quaxo. And it goes terrible." He folded his arms crossly, leaning back against the pipe. "At this rate, I won't be seeing her again, let alone be performing at the Ball." He realized what he'd said as he finished the sentence, and he smashed his palm against his forehead.

"Ooh, who's her?" Tugger grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. Quaxo had never mentioned a queen before, even though Tugger trying to get him to.

"Ah, Everlasting," Quaxo groaned, his head still in his palms.

"Quaxo has a crush! My little buddy has found _lurve_!" Tugger laughed, watching his friend's expression. It was way too easy to get on the little guy's nerves.

"Quit it!" the little tom hissed. "Just never mind." There was a pause, and then Tugger leaped towards him, tackling the black cat into a ball beneath him.

"Come on, tell me," he chuckled, ignoring Quaxo's shouts of indignation. "I can _help _you. You know it." He began tickling the black cat, eliciting a string of loud curses.

After a slight struggle, Quaxo scrambled out from beneath him. "No, you can't," he huffed between breaths. "Her parents would never…" he trailed off, ears twitching with confliction. "She has a tomfriend," he said instead, and turned away. "Now won't you leave me alone? I need to get this right before the Ball."

But Tugger had already figured it out. High-end queen with a tomfriend around Quaxo's age. "Jemima? She's a pretty one, but when have you ever been friends?" he asked nonchalantly.

Quaxo gave a yowl that was both aghast and adorable at the same time. "You are _not _going to quit this, are you?"

Tugger ignored his question. "I'm right, aren't I?" Quaxo glared at him, still not answering. "I mean, she _is _quite good friends with your sister, but you've never really been close…you've always hung with older cats, haven't you? Heavyside, I wonder if she thinks you're weird, hanging with the twi-"

"Tugger, shut up," Quaxo cut him off. His tone was exasperated but one of defeat. Tugger gave himself a mental high five. "Yeah, I'm weird, and she's the daughter of the Jellicle Protector, _and_ she has a tomfriend. We're going to have one hell of a happy ever after." He laughed bitterly.

Tugger frowned. "Oh, come one Misto, you've plenty of time. Besides, they're not going to stay together forever."

Quaxo grit his teeth. "Don't _call _me that, Tugger." He paused, seeming to think for a moment. "And I think you're wrong about the other thing. She and Tumble have been close friends since she was a baby. Nothing will come in between them." He gave a quiet sigh, and Tugger saw how disheartened he really was.

"Nothing has to come between them," Tugger told him gently. "They'll grow apart. You'll see. He asked her because he thought it would be the most natural thing to do." He began to pick up steam, talking faster. "He's a tom, she's a queen, they've been best friends, so shouldn't they be more?"

"Yes," Quaxo interjected grumpily.

Tugger raised his eyebrows, momentarily startled at being stopped. "No." He paused, giving his friend a knowing look. "There's no _fire. _No _passion. _No _oh-là-là._" Tugger couldn't help but grin at Quaxo's disgusted expression. "C'est _vrai, _mon ami. I know these things. If you should trust anyone on this, you should trust _moi._"

The black cat gave a low laugh. "Right. _You, _who has a different queen every week? _You, _who hasn't had one solid relationship? _You, _who is clearly in love with someone who you will never be brave enough to tell?" He snorted. "Not a chance in hell, Tugs."

Tugger's mind flashed immediately back to Bomba, sleeping like an angel in his bed. "You're wrong on one account," he told Quaxo smoothly. "I've told her I love her multiple times." The black cat gave a huff of disbelief, and Tugger silenced him with a paw. "And I meant it."

The two toms stared at each other in stark silence. Tugger lowered his paw slowly, shrugging with disinterest. Quaxo looked away. "So what am I supposed to do?" he asked, voice small. "If you think I stand a slight chance-"

"You do!"

"-then what should I do?"

Tugger smiled. "You wait, my friend. You _wait._" He turned for the pipe exit. "I'll leave you to your practicing, now." Quaxo gave another huff of exasperation, and Tugger glanced back, tail swishing. "And by the way, you two will make an _adorable _couple." With that he was off, hips swaggering in that delightfully _obnoxious _way.

**Another A/N: Ahaha! JemimaxMisto is back! I didn't forget about that first chapter ;). And seriously, I will go down with this ship! Please review and leave requests for any cats you'd like featured or re-featured. Thanks for reading. XD **


	10. Plato

**A/N: Another chapter up! Sorry I haven't been uploading lately...I've had summer camp :). Mostly fluff and some Victoria x Plato. (I'm sorry, but Misto x Victoria is never gonna do it for me. Probably because Jemima x Misto is one of my OTPs and the thought of Misto with someone else makes me so sad :'()**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Cats. Do I really have to keep writing this? Maybe on the next chapter I'll cut it out. XD**

Plato walked along the rusted train tracks leading towards the Forest, half listening to Etcetera's incessant chattering. In all honesty, he wished she would just stop, _stop_ for Heavyside's sake, but he didn't have the heart to tell her so. He could see she was upset and talking was the only way she would keep from breaking down. But he was upset too, his head was starting to hurt, and some silence would be _greatly_ appreciated.

In any case, the farther they had gone along, the more worried he had become, and Etcetera had noticed. It seemed to him that the more he worried, the more she talked. He held on to the doubtful hope Victoria was asleep and safe in her den, but something had been nagging him from when Etcetera had first begun to tell her story. Now they were nearing the white cat's den, but even from a couple hundred yards away he could see that something was off. The lights were on, but the door was wide open. He doubted the white cat or her brother would be inside, but didn't tell the still-babbling kitten.

"I'm gonna find you Vicky!" Etcetera had stopped mid-sentence to announce this, and now she shot off in the direction of the den. Plato sighed, watching her go, at first deciding to keep at his own leisurely pace but then breaking down and chasing after her. He wanted to find the white queen too, and underneath this want was a river of undulating worry. He was more worried then he had let on to little Cettie, but she had still managed to catch wind of it. She had smelt it on him the same way you might smell campfire smoke in someone's fur. The same way you discerned a stinking mystery cat from a Jellicle. The same way that fear had practically hung over the Junkyard like fragrant smog on the night that Macavity had been banished, heavy and intoxicating and un-escapable as the thirty-some cats huddled and watched him walk away, his laugh echoing in the midnight air.

This random thought that had somehow gotten tacked on to the others came as a bit of strange shock, and Plato shook his head in bemusement. Among the 'kittens', he was the only one that remembered that night coherently. Perhaps Victoria recollected images, Tumblebrutus might recognize that stink if it ever lit the Junkyard again…but the rest hadn't been born yet. Plato hadn't thought about Macavity's banishing in years, but as he ran towards Victoria's den, all of it crashed over him like a wave off the ocean surf. And it _burned, _but burned in a way that wasn't hurt or fear. It burned the same way it sometimes did when he watched Victoria dance, or perhaps when she smiled that soft smile. If there was one thing Plato remembered from that night, it wasn't the stinking scent of terror or the heat of thirty bodies pressing in on one another, it wasn't even the image of Macavity's fading silhouette and his haunting, crazed laugh. It was the feeling of identification, of misunderstanding…perhaps sorrow. The _burning. _Even at six years old, Plato felt distinctly sorry that the orange tabby was leaving. He had wanted Macavity to stay.

All this flashed through Plato's mind in an instant, and it was gone as soon as he reached Etcetera at the front door. Even though she had had a head start, Plato had longer legs and had caught up to her easily.

"Vicky?" Etcetera asked with the sort of hopeful cheeriness that Plato instantly dreaded. She stepped in, peering around the den, and then said what he had already known. "She's not here." She stepped back in a sort of dumbfounded amusement, as if she thought Victoria would pop out at any moment and scream surprise.

Plato shouldered past her and peered into Victoria's room. It was empty, the bedsheets made perfectly. The only thing that stood out as wrong was the crushed and hollow box of chocolates on the floor. Plato frowned, glancing back and forth between the pristine bed and the mess of wrappers and ribbon on the ground. That wasn't right. _She would have cleaned up. _Even as he thought it he knew that it was correct. She wasn't here and hadn't been for a while. Something bad had happened, and she'd been forced to leave before she could clean up the mess on the floor.

"Etcetera, let's go," he told the kitten. "She's not here. We have to keep looking."

Etcetera opened her mouth as if to protest, but then followed him without another word. It was beginning to rise off her skin now- that awful fear-stink from that night so long ago. How he _hated _it. He had never realized before now, but he _hated _that smell. It wasn't just disgusting, it was wrong. Especially coming off a kitten.

The thought was broken as he reached the door. From here he could see the start of the Forest, and at the start of the Forest…

There. A tuft of stark white fur, sticking out against the green-leafed bushes. He took off towards it before he knew what he was doing, ignoring Etcetera's cries of 'wait up' from behind him. "Victoria!" he started calling as he reached the Forest edge. He hesitated before beginning to pluck through the underbrush, following the trail of white fur that was now imminent from where he stood. She hadn't chosen a great path, that was for sure. This trail went right through the brambles.

Plato picked through it precariously, hearing a few discontented mutters from Etcetera. But her fear-stink kept him going, kept him manoeuvring through the brambles even as he felt it tear at his fur.

"Victoria!" he called out again, and then his voice faltered. He could see her. She lay in a bed of shrubs, the prickly branches enveloping her as if giving a gentle hug. The tufts of white fur had been increasing, and it hung in the multitudes in these shrubs, some of it still partly connected to her body. She was so still, unmoving. For a moment his mind raced to the worst conclusion…that perhaps the breath had already left her and he was too late…but the thought was immediately crushed in screaming denial. There was the smell of stale vomit, and somehow, even though his mind denied it, the smell of blood.

He rushed towards her, ignoring the sharp pain as his own fur tore from his skin, reaching for her like a child towards their mother. He reached into the brambles and hauled her out, trying to ignore as a good section of white fluff disconnected with her body. He saw where the blood-smell came from…it was seeping out from where the fur had torn badly.

"Victoria…" he whispered hoarsely, and to his indescribable relief, she stirred. Her head tipped towards him, her eyelids fluttering to release those pretty blue pools behind them, and in that moment Plato was certain no one could ever look so perilously beautiful.

She tried to smile, only to let out a series of hoarse coughs. Her paws tightened around his with scary weakness.

"Etcetera," he said quietly, trying not to startle the white queen, and the kitten appeared beside him. He had lost track of her somewhere back in the brambles, his mind focused with panicky intensity on the numerous amount of white stuff among the bushes, but he remembered her now.

"Go get Jenny," he told her, his voice sounding surprisingly calm for how he felt. "Now. Please, Cettie." She didn't need to be told twice, and was gone within seconds. Victoria stirred in his arms again, letting out a weak moan. He tried to smile at her, but it was hard when she looked as if she had been beaten to near death. The branches had scratched her badly along the sides too, and there were horrible red welts along her body, stark against her white fur.

"I…I panicked," she told him softly, and he tightened his grip around her. Her eyes still looked dazed, distracted, but she could speak and he felt some strength coming back into her as she squeezed his paw again. "I know I shouldn't have eaten them all at once…but…I panicked. I'm sorry." A tear trickled down her cheek, and Plato felt some of his own pricking at the corners of his eyes. He had no idea what she was talking about, but it filled him with an awful dread.

"Shh, Victoria, there's nothing to be sorry about." He hoped she couldn't hear the tremor in his voice. "We found you. Cettie's going to get Jenny and she'll fix you up just fine. Don't you worry.

She smiled, remarkably peaceably for her situation. Plato supposed she might be in shock. "Plato," she whispered to him, her face upturned, her head tilting towards his. Her eyes were wide open now, blue like the sky above. _She's beautiful, _Plato thought again, even if she had lost a third of her fur and he could feel all her ribs and her blood was staining his paws. _She's the most beautiful queen I've ever laid eyes on._

"Yes, Victoria?"

"Will you do the mating dance with me at the Ball?"

At this Plato blanched, but he maintained his smile. And then he told her yes. Yes, Victoria. Yes. _A million times, yes._

"Thank you," she said, and her voice was filled with relief. "And it's Vicky."

Plato felt that burning feeling again, pleasanter than he remembered, and he held her close. He held her close and waited for Jenny to arrive.

**Anoter A/N: So that is it! I already know who I'm uploading next, but as usual, review and leave any requests you'd like for a featured character. Thanks for reading! :)**


	11. Coricopat

**A/N: 'Nother chapter! Here ya go :D **

**(not gonna bother with the disclaimer)**

Coricopat burst upright, cold-sweat dotting his brow. _"Tantomile!"_ It was the loudest cry he could muster, but nobody in the Yard would hear it but his twin. He sat himself up from where he rested beneath a pile of overhanging junk, blinking away his vision. Half a second passed before Tantomile had slid up next to him, her lithe body appearing with such quietness that you would not see her unless you were looking.

They stood face to face, eyes closed, and Coricopat waited as his sister thought a series of images to him, each exploding with vivid expression in his own mind. First came an image of a fiery orange-red tom, his face snarled in an awful expression. Next was the Jellicle cats, all of them crowded together and faces blurry. The last was darkness, a circular light just barely visible through the shadows. Then it was over. Coricopat opened his eyes and met those of his twin.

"Same?" she asked him dully, voice subdued. He nodded. The two were silent for a moment. _That was awful, _Coricopat thought, not trying to share with Tantomile but not keeping it private either. _The worst vision I've had in years. _He looked back up at his sister. "So..." she murmured, "What are we going to do?"

Coricopat blinked, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean? We're telling Old Deuteronomy, just like always." He thought for a second that she had perhaps asked it by mistake and would laugh it off, but she didn't. Instead, Tantomile pursed her lips. "Tanto!" Coricopat chided her, confused at her behaviour.

"This one was different," she answered calmly. Coricopat stirred uncomfortably. She watched him, and then added lowly, "You saw Macavity just as clear as I did. It was _sent _from him."

"So?" Coricopat muttered.

"Cori," Tantomile sighed, sounding annoyed. "Did it ever occur to you that these cats do not like him?"

Coricopat wasn't sure how to react, but he settled for giving her an odd look. "Tanto, what in Heavyside are you going on about?"

The queen sat herself back on her haunches, face unreadable. "I mean we have a history with him. A history these cats are not going to approve of if they find out." She gave him time to mull this over, but he only needed a few seconds to understand what she was saying.

"You don't want to tell because it might put our reputation in danger?" he asked incredulously. "He's dangerous! What I saw was awful!"

Tantomile bared her fangs, a thing she rarely would do with him. "I certainly did, Cori," she hissed through her teeth. "A danger to us!"

"A danger to _all_ of us!" Coricopat fired back. "Don't be ridiculous. We're telling Deuteronomy. We promised to enlighten him on all our visions when we entered this tribe, from weather to prophecies. I will not lie about this!" His ears were flattened from agitation, and he slowly let them come up again, realizing what was happening. _We're arguing, _he thought numbly. And privately.

He and his sister never argued. Over anything.

"You lie to everyone all the time," Tantomile was saying. She had risen and was advancing towards him, teeth still showing. "I won't let you, Cori. You're not telling anyone about this without my permission."

Coricopat stared back at his sister's angry face, feeling a mixture of dejection and fiery fury. What was this? "Tanto," he said softly, and she gave a start, blinking. Her hissing paused and Coricopat closed his eyes, reaching to her the only way he knew how. He sent her a fierce bout of images in rapid-fire succession, varying from Macavity's claws plunging into an unknown to bloody bodies upon the ground to scared kits mewling in despair. _This is what might happen. _He made sure they were all clear despite how fast he thought them. She needed to understand. Despite other cats' beliefs, Tanto and Cori couldn't communicate in structured sentences and words. The only way they got through were thoughts, which could form in images or feelings. Occasionally a word or two got through, but it was usually accompanied something else. When he had called upon his sister earlier, it had been attached to an image of her.

Finally finished, Coricopat opened his eyes, cutting off their mind-communication effectively. Tantomile stood still, her face blank. _She's still considering, _he thought in disbelief. _She still thinks we shouldn't tell him. _

"Tantomile," he said pleadingly. He was reduced to begging in words. Words, which sometimes he detested. They never got things across as he meant them too. "Nobody will find out. And even if they do, what do you think they'll do to us? Kick us out? There are other cats in this Yard who have had a connection with him, and they're still here."

She met his eyes, head turning with such sharpness it made him step back. "You mean the thieves?" she asked bitingly, the venom back in her voice. "How can you possibly compare us to them, Cori? They're _popular. _They're _cute. _They're _funny. _Everyone _loves _them. And us? They distrust us. They find us peculiar. They are scared of us, Cori, and some of them _hate _us! They would kick us out without a second thought!"

Coricopat stared at his twin in sheer shock. Never had she uttered such awful words against any of the cats in their tribe. "How could you say that?" he asked in confused quiet. "We've been here for seven years, Tanto. Seven! These cats are our _family! _And they are in danger! Don't you understand that?"

"Understand this!" Tantomile shouted, her ears flat against her head, claws out. "Understand this, brother," she said in a lower voice. "You know what those two hooligan tabbies did? Steal a couple of things." She paused. And then, "We helped him _murder. I helped him murder!_" She glared at him, clearly still full of anger and _words, _goddamn _words, _but she stopped to let him speak.

Coricopat didn't say anything. At least, not for a good minute or two. He waited until she had deflated a bit, and then began to talk quietly. "We were barely seven years old, Tanto. We didn't know what we were doing. The tribe will understand." When she didn't answer, he continued, a little more boldly. "They are our family and we are theirs. There's no reason to worry. No reason at all." She still did not reply. "And Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer are perfectly nice cats. You shouldn't say those things about them."

That was a mistake. Before he knew what was happening, Tantomile had sprung from where she stood and enveloped her paws around his neck. Tightly. Not tight enough to get him gasping, yet tight enough to slightly hurt. They were the same in every respect, including weight and size, so he should be able to at least rock her back. But his sister with fuelled with anger and adrenaline, and she kept her grip on him firm. Coricopat struggled beneath her, what little feeling running from his mind to hers cutting off abruptly. It left an odd absence in his mind. He was so used to at least _feeling _her there, feeling the tunnel, even if they did not cross it.

"No!" she growled from above him, and it was a real growl. Not a menacing hiss, but a growl that he hadn't even known she was capable of. "These cats do not think we are family! They think we are strange and awkward! The thieves get away with what they do because they are _normal._" Her voice was rising in volume, growing faster and more furious._ "_They don't have premonitions and mind-sharing! They aren't exact replicas of each other that nobody can tell apart. They don't get horrid dreams and they can't feel cats' feeling even when they don't want to! They're normal, Cori, normal! _And we are not!_" the last phrase came out in a crazed scream, and it hung in the air like warm breath in winter air as Coricopat struggled to breathe. In the pause he kicked out wildly, and heard one paw connect with something hard, creating a hollow _thunk_. At this the pressure around his neck was released, and Tantomile melted it off him like snow sliding down the riverbank in spring. She curled up, a little black-and-white ball, a low tearless sob rising from her throat.

_She tried to murder me. _Coricopat stared at her in numb silence, rubbing his throat with a paw. He knew already it would bruise. _What's happening? _he thought bitterly. _What's happening to us? _

He got no reply from his sister. But as they sat there in quiet, it struck him. Macavity. It was Macavity again, using his mind games to confuse and belittle them. He had done it before when they were kits, and he was doing it again.

It took all the strength he could to hug his sister because her actions had disgusted him so, but as soon as he enveloped her he felt the anger begin to ebb away. He let her rest her head in the crook on his shoulder as she had the first time they'd been confronted by a Jellicle. It was the pose she assumed when ashamed.

They sat there for a long stretch of time before Coricopat dared speak again. He felt as if he were talking to a bomb that might explode at any second, so he kept him voice quiet and as gentle as possible. "If you don't want me to tell Deuteronomy, I won't. But somebody needs to know. Who do you trust?"

Tantomile let out a shuddery sigh. "Nobody. I trust no-fucking-body in this whole tribe. And I haven't for seven years."

His sister never used profanity, but Coricopat elected to ignore it this time around. His sister had also never tried to strangle him before, and she'd already done that today. His mind was running like crazy, and as he closed his eyes he felt himself cross the tunnel to his twin once again. It was easiest to connect when either of them was feeling extreme emotions, and even easier if they both were.

As soon as the tunnel beneath them had formed, he began thinking cats' images and profiles to her, running through them in random order. _Munkustrap, Etcetera, Jennyanydots, Exotica, Alonzo, Skimbleshanks, Cassandra, Quaxo…_

The tunnel shut off on Tantomile's side, and Coricopat opened his eyes. "Quaxo," she told him tiredly. "He's been a good friend to you. You can tell him."

Coricopat looked at her, raising his brow. "He has powers too. You don't think they won't condemn him too?"

Tantomile shook her striped head and stepped back. "Everyone loves his sister. And Tugger loves _him_. He's Old Deuteronomy's son; if he stands up for Quaxo everyone will." She dropped out from the shadow of the overhanging junk into the sunshine, her back to him. He thought she would leave without another word, but she wavered there, one paw in the air. "I'm sorry. But Macavity is too much," she whispered quietly, still facing away. "You trust these cats, but I know they don't trust us. Macavity will set them over the edge against us." Her head dipped down before rising and turning to give him a last meaningful glance. And then she was gone, as quick and silent as she had appeared.

Coricopat was left in the shadows alone, still feeling numb. _Macavity. The mystery cat. And the most dangerous cat who's ever lived. _He stared out into the sunny Yard, watching as each cat passed. None of which his sister had ever trusted. _My sister and I are one of two halves. No one has ever broken us apart like that before. _Tugger and Bombalurina strolled past obliviously, and Coricopat watched them in silence. _She tried to murder me. _

The thought had been pounding in his head like a gentle headache since she had released him and now it came to light, growing louder. _She tried to murder me. She tried to murder me. She tried to murder me. _Something about the mantra reminded him of his sister's words earlier, and his tail began to swish in the agitation of it. He couldn't remember what it was, but it was there, on the tip of his tongue. And then, with such sharpness and clarity, it came. It was so clear and out of the blue that Coricopat would never be sure if they were his own thoughts or those of someone else's. They could have been his sister's... or they could have been from someone much more sinister.

_We helped him murder. I helped him murder!_

Well, she hadn't quite succeeded this time around.

**A/N: Getting a bit interesting...maybe...hopefully? XD Anyway, please review and leave request as usual! Thanks for reading. :)**


	12. Macavity

**A/N: Thought I'd attempt someone a bit more difficult. Enjoy! :3 **

Macavity was pacing. Gotten out of bed to do so. He did this often- too often, his friends would say. But to hell with his friends. Left, right. Back, forth. Friends. What an illusion. What even were friends? What use did friends have? Ah, who even cared. Who cared? Who _cared?_

"Macavity."

The orange tabby turned, his feet shifting clumsily. They had gotten so used to _(left, right) _pacing that changing his rhythm was suddenly confusing. "Bast," he swore, trying to straighten himself. Illusions. That's what this was. Illusions and friends going to hell-

"An update," came the voice again. It was bright, merry, annoyingly so. Cockney accent, twin voices, it was that pair again, the thieving pair of friends (_what are friends) _back to see him again.

"Update," Macavity said, pondering this. "Ah, yes. I'd like an update." Funny how his words came out so organized when his thoughts were so _(left, right) _scrambled. Scrambled and lost and confused and-

"It's a girl," Mungojerrie told him, his gaze steady but unable to really meet the tabby's eyes. Instead they stared through him, as if he wasn't really there. Macavity watched him, bemused. At fourteen, the tom still had growing to do. But he was shaping up to be something more than a _(friend) _thief. And the queen-kit, she held perhaps more potential then him.

"A girl," Macavity said slowly, his voice low and quiet. A girl, a girl, a girl. His brother was having a daughter, what do you know, his little brother that never had a queenfriend now had a daughter, wasn't that something, wasn't that just- "_Hilarious_!" he shouted aloud. Mungojerrie and the queen-kit (he'd never bother to learn her name) jumped, almost scarily in synch. Macavity laughed, his eyes shifting wildly _(left, right) _between the two. "That's just hilarious," he said again between the laughs. The two cats in front of him had stilled, both wearing equally terrified expressions. For some reason that made him laugh even more, and he began to convulse with it, slipping slowly to the ground.

Ah, the ground. Wasn't it nice to just lie on the delicious cool ground. The ground was like a _(friend) _calming factor, taking the laughter and sucking it down, down, out of his body. The ground stilled him, leaving him staring up at the ceiling, eyes blinking lazily, everything quiet save his own breath.

The voice came again, quiet and nervous, "Sir?" All it's merriness was gone. _Good._

Macavity let out an exaggerated sigh, and rolled playfully round onto his side, his paw to his forehead. "Whaaaaaat," he asked in a bored tone, his paw melting lazily down his face as he said it. Wasn't this so much fun? Fun, fun, fun. Scrambled, scrambled scrambled, thoughts _(illusions) _scrambled and confused.

"D-do you…do you want to know her name?" Mungojerrie was twitching now, and it was kind of _(hilarious) _irritating.

"Don't stutter, Jerrie," Macavity drawled, and tucked his legs under to sit up. "It's not becoming on you." This struck him as particularly funny and he began to laugh again in quiet giggles.

"It's Jemima," a different voice said. An impatient, feminine, slightly scared voice. Macavity raised his head, lips pursed, giggles dying away.

The queen-kit, whatever her name was, she was standing slightly in front of the tom, and she had sort of a bold expression on her face that someone less _(friendly)_ knowledgeable might mistake for confidence. "Her name is Jemima," she said again, and there was less fear in it this time around.

Macavity eyed her _(left, right) _up and down and then got to his feet, walking towards her. In some part of his _(scrambled) _mind, he took note of how Mungojerrie's eyes widened in fear as he advanced. "Aren't you a pretty thing," Macavity droned, copying her accent so it came out more like 'Orn't yew a pritty thang.' The queen-kit met his eyes, the first bit of mistrust entering them. Oh, Macavity had always known the two feared him, but mistrust…he felt slightly wounded. "What's your name?" he asked back in his regular voice. The _(scrambled) _thoughts that had overtaken his mind earlier began to fizz back, that sharp predatory sense in him erupting with clarity.

"Rumpleteazer," the tabby replied stiffly. "Teazer to my friends."

"Friends," Macavity said, and opened his mouth in a wide grin, revealing his fangs. "Are we…" he leaned in closer, wrapping his tail intimately about her, "…friends?" Rumpleteazer froze at his touch, and Mungojerrie let out a low hiss that Macavity bluntly ignored. "Are we, Teazer?" He whispered this to her, lips barely inches from her face, a low seductive growl entering his tone. It had been a while since he'd had a queen, but the urge for one had not left him. And besides, she was very pretty, even if only fourteen, maybe thirteen. He let his tail glide softly along the tabby's spine, that grin still wide on his face. The queen snapped her head away, breath coming shallow. She was scared now.

Macavity let out a low laugh and stepped back from her, smiling. Not today. He wouldn't have her today, but maybe another, maybe a day where things were particularly boring. "I thought so." He turned back to Mungojerrie, who's eyes were wide open with either shock or fear. "Is she healthy?" He asked it in a deliberately bored tone.

Mungojerrie seemed to snap awake, blinking at the orange tom's voice. "W-who?"

"I told you not to _stutter, _Jerrie," Macavity groaned loudly. He shook his head out, mind beginning to crowd with _(illusions) _thoughts once again. "The _kit_. Is she _healthy_?"

Mungojerrie nodded silently, looking either ashamed or confused. Or maybe both.

"Pity," Macavity sighed. "Now my idiot brother is going to be a bit distracted. That just makes my job so much _easier _and _boring_…" he clicked his tongue _(left, right) _in annoyance. He turned away from the two cats, walking leisurely back to his bed. When they didn't move, he snapped his head around with renewed ferocity. "What are you two still doing here? Get out!" They jumped in the synchronized way they had and leapt away, both muttering under their breath. "Teazer!" he called, and one of them turned around. At this distance he couldn't tell who was who. "I'll be seeing you again, yes?" When she nodded sullenly he blew her an air-kiss, and then laughed as she scurried away.

For a while he just stood, staring into the space where the two cats had been. "Friends," he muttered to himself. "To hell with all my fucking friends."

And then he began to pace once more.

**A/N: Yah...this chapter was kinda weird. But hopefully good-weird? Anyway, please review and leave and requests of characters you'd like featured or re-featured. Thanks for reading! XD**


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